Passion’s Resurrection

by Asia Elisse P. Enriquez

Of fulfilled dreams and failed duty
Sanitized knives, and machinery’s beauty
In the middle of the chaos of blood and flesh
Stood a man with his fears, drenched.

Through the taunting call of hoarse voices
Lapped by the demons of a once dead patient
Dull and cold against my trembling heat
How could his hemorrhage be my defeat?

Cast me Mary’s divine beads,
of Hails and Holy I never reached Glory
Of Our Fathers and lost prayers,
10 years of memories forever weaved with tears, still blurry.

Thy wheels of great body, rushed towards the cell
The labyrinth where my soul is still lost, all kiss no tell.
Shaking fingertips against the blue covered latex
I saw his hemorrhage, his proportion under the graze of my matrix

Run!
How do you run from a body buried?
Run! Hide!
How do you hide from the monsters of our past, hurry!

Was it not enough?
That I scribble medicines from papers unscratched
Why would you ask me to face the monsters
Why must you shove me back to my dungeon?

Like a drop of vinegar in the vast ocean
I chose to strip myself, passion now broken
But must I stay inside my cell?
Must I fear the profession I name too well?

Of beating hearts, never resting rhythms
I choose to paint myself with uncertain chances
Born to be clad in a surgeon’s robe
No death, no life could kill my hope.

Of failed surgeries, and fulfilled passion
Despite deaths, I choose to save a nation
In the middle of the chaos of blood and flesh
Stood a man with dreams at his hands, held clenched.